


Happy

by pixelated



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Figuring Out Sex, First Time, Fluff, M/M, New Relationship, Romance, Smut, Soft Boys, happy boys, idk - Freeform, kinda funny maybe, there’s sex but it’s not sexy, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-16 02:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixelated/pseuds/pixelated
Summary: Prompt 136: Remus is inexperienced but enthusiastic, Sirius is confident but sweet... and they have sex for the first time.





	Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the prompter, to letsdothepanic for betaing, and to the mods of the fest!

**I.    Spring**

  
  
The first time anything goes further than lingering touches and surreptitious snogging, it’s the morning after a full moon. Sirius has one arm slung over Remus’s waist, spooned up behind him in the Shrieking Shack’s creaky bed, with the musty threadbare quilt pulled up over them both. Raindrops pelt the shabbily shingled roof, pitter-pattering individually like falling pebbles. It’s springtime, and it’s neither warm nor cold outside. But inside, under this quilt, pressed up against Remus like this, it’s almost unbearably hot.  
  
The light of one burning candle spills over Remus’s ear and, to Sirius, he looks angelic and fragile. He knows, of course, that Remus is anything but. He’s sneaky and mischievous, strong and brave. Something underneath Sirius’s sternum flips— maybe it’s his heart, maybe it’s just nerves. He doesn’t know, but it’s new.  
  
James and Peter have already gone back to the castle. Sirius always lingers behind, and he’s thankful that they haven’t asked too many questions about it. They don’t yet know about this thing, whatever it is that he’s doing with Remus. It’s a secret they both want to keep for now.  
  
It’s been going on for only a few weeks, but Sirius would be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking of his friend for longer than that. Remus openly admitted as much, confessing that he’s fancied Sirius for years after Sirius (who’s been blatantly flirting with the boy and habitually crowding himself into his personal space since they were both eleven years old without understanding _why_ ) kissed him at last.  
  
_Years_ , Remus said, breathless against Sirius’s lips with fingers intertwined into his dark hair, and Sirius can’t quite bring himself to admit that it’s been years for him as well, whether out of fear or pride or the sad realisation that he could’ve been kissing Remus for much, much longer— he’s not sure.  
  
He’s a little ashamed, he can’t help it— Remus is a boy, after all, and this thing they’ve gotten themselves into is taboo at best. Despite having already been disowned, he can’t fathom what his family would do if any of them found out. Though, on that front, he worries more for Remus. Sirius consorting intimately with a half-blood male would undoubtedly lead to Remus’s lycanthropy being exposed, and he will not allow his own foolish recklessness to wound Remus.  
  
He presses his nose into Remus’s tawny curls and breathes in the scents of their forest run; damp soil, moss, lavender, bluebells. It’d been a good night— no new scars will mar Remus’s body, though they both have a few bumps and bruises from their rambunctious play. But no matter.  
  
Remus is completely nude, as he always is in these moments, and Sirius (who is fully clothed) always feels guilty for being a little aroused. Remus shifts, fluttering his dark eyelashes in the dim grey dawn, and Sirius is suddenly aware of his hand on his friend’s flat stomach, of his fingers stroking the patch of soft hair just under his navel. He stills his hand.  
  
“Sirius,” Remus’s voice cracks, and it’s so quiet, it’s barely even a word at all.  
  
“Yeah,” Sirius says.  
  
Remus rolls onto his back and Sirius smiles because he can see his freckles better in this light— they’re his favourite feature of Remus’s face. They are sprinkled prettily across his nose and cheeks, and Sirius wants to somehow touch each one individually. Instead, he props himself up onto one elbow and leans down for a gentle, languid kiss. When he finally pulls away, Remus returns Sirius’s smile with one of his own. The candle’s flame flickers, shadows dancing hypnotically over Remus’s face, and Sirius can’t help but be moved by his friend’s overwhelming beauty. Remus is still smiling when he lets out a quiet snorting laugh.  
  
“You’re turning me on,” Remus says bluntly, and Sirius realises his hand has started moving again, of its own volition.  
  
“Sorry,” Sirius mumbles, gazing down at the other boy. “Couldn’t be helped when you’re lying there, looking so bloody fit.”  
  
Remus rolls his hazel eyes, but Sirius can see the faint pink blush tinting his cheeks. He slides his hand downward, to the inside of Remus’s skinny thigh, scratching his blunt fingernails lightly over the sensitive skin there.  
  
“Are you hard?” he asks.  
  
“I’m always hard with you around,” Remus admits with a sigh, running a hand through his own hair. His eyes close again, and Sirius just watches him. Remus's tiredness is evident, thanks to his slow, lethargic moves.  
  
“Let me take care of you,” Sirius says quietly. He’s never done this to another boy before, but he figures it can’t be too difficult— he knows what he likes himself, anyway, so he attempts to mimic those movements. He takes Remus’s length into his hand, squeezing gently, and Remus lets a little gasp of air slip into his open mouth.  
  
Sirius is surprised by how natural this feels. Admittedly, he’s been a little worried about their relationship progressing— eager but anxious, because he’s only been with girls before. But this— well, the blissful expression on Remus’s face and the delightful noises he’s making are rewarding enough. All trepidation flies out of the window. His new purpose in life is to make Remus as happy as he is.  
  
It’s unrushed and lazy; Remus is sore and sleepy, and Sirius is mindful of that. He ignores his own alert cock to give Remus what he needs, and he’s glad to do it. He can take care of himself later. Beads of sweat are springing up on Remus’s forehead and chest, so Sirius removes his hand, just for a moment to push the quilt down, then starts on Remus again. He can’t help but notice how especially gorgeous he is like this, slick and hard and completely relaxed.  
  
“Merlin, Moony, you look—” he starts. Sirius wants to tell him, but holds himself back. How do you tell a boy he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? He swallows the lump in his throat.  
  
Remus reaches up, his fingers card through Sirius’s hair. They curl around the back of his neck, and Remus pulls him down close. Their mouths open, tongues moving instinctually like they were both born to be kissing one another. When Remus comes, he moans with Sirius’s bottom lip between his teeth.

 

**II. Summer**

  
  
Remus and Peter are spending a week at the Potters’. They both arrived earlier that afternoon and were shown to separate, elaborately decorated guest rooms just across the hallway from James and Sirius. Sirius has his own bedroom now, decorated with scarlet and gold Gryffindor banners, motorbike pictures, and David Bowie posters.

  
There’s a small, innocuous framed photo of Remus and Sirius on the bedside table from Sirius’s seventeenth birthday— conical party hats askew, himself with his arms akimbo, Sirius with a giant, shit-eating grin on his face. Remus laughed when he first saw it sitting there. Really, he was flattered.  
  
He doesn’t rank himself higher than James in Sirius’s eyes. Certainly ‘brother’ takes precedence over… what are they to each other now, anyway? More than friends, Remus supposes, but not quite lovers. They’re not dating— he’s sure that requires actually going out in public. Remus tries not to think too much about technicalities and enjoy what they have while they have it. He’s happy, and that’s what counts.  
  
Instead of drowning in the ridiculously ornate guest room, where he feels uncomfortably out of place amongst the high thread count sheets and antique furniture, Remus gets out of bed and sneaks down the hall. Remus taps lightly on Sirius’s door, opening it and stepping inside before closing it once more.  
  
Sirius’s wand is jammed between the window and its frame, holding it open, and one tanned arm is hanging out of it. The warm, summer breeze makes Sirius’s hair billow around his chiseled face like black satin. He’s leaning casually against the window frame in just his pyjama bottoms, riding so low on his hips they leave very little to the imagination. Sirius blows a stream of marijuana smoke out of it, turning to Remus when he hears him enter.  
  
“At least it’s not another cigarette,” Remus says, crossing the room. “Those things will be the death of you.” He takes the joint from Sirius and places it between his own lips, inhaling deeply as he closes his eyes.  
  
When he exhales and opens them again, Sirius is staring at him through the puff of unfurling smoke with a salacious grin plastered on his face, the sharp point of one canine tooth digging delicately into his lip. He looks like he wants to devour Remus, and Remus might just be okay with that.  
  
“ _You_ will be the death of me,” Sirius says. “Merlin, your mouth is beautiful.”  
  
Remus laughs and moves closer to him, wrapping one arm around his waist. He takes another hit of the joint, then bounces up onto his toes to pull Sirius into a kiss. Sirius’s lips part, and Remus exhales into his mouth. Sirius holds the smoke in for a moment, then releases it through his nose, his tongue against Remus’s unrelenting and hungry.  
  
“Shit,” Sirius mumbles when they finally pull apart. He snuffs the joint out on the window sill and leaves it there. “I’m so fucking horny right now.”  
  
“Yeah?” Remus asks, even though he can feel Sirius’s erection against his hip. “Interested in finding out what else my mouth can do?” He slides one hand past Sirius’s waistband and into his pyjamas, his fist tightening around the hard cock that lay inside.  
  
“Fuck, Rem,” Sirius sighs, canting his hips forward. Remus could just let him enjoy this, but he’s got other things on his mind, new things. He wants to prove himself worthy of Sirius’s affection. “You don’t have to, you know.”  
  
“I want to,” Remus says, stroking him a bit as he looks up at Sirius. “Will you let me?”  
  
“Yeah, I mean— do you know what you’re doing?”  
  
“No, not really.”  Remus certainly does not have the upper hand when it comes to sexual experience in this relationship. “Tell me what to do.”  
  
Sirius grabs onto Remus’s hips and walks backward until his legs hit the bed and they collapse down upon it. They shuffle into a comfortable position— Sirius resting against the headboard, Remus kneeling between his splayed legs, smoothing his hands up Sirius’s strong thighs.  
  
Remus kisses him again— his mouth, his jawline, his ear, his neck, his shoulder. Remus takes his time, savouring the smoky tang of Sirius’s skin as he works his way down his body. Sirius’s hands are in his hair when Remus’s tongue finds a nipple, and a low growl rumbles from his throat when he tugs Sirius’s pyjamas down.  
  
Remus grins, admiring the view before he sets on his mission. Sirius is masculine perfection— all height and muscle and thick, dark hair— and Remus momentarily wonders how he got so lucky. He has something to prove tonight. He leans forward and wraps his fingers around Sirius’s cock, looking up at him.  
  
“Tell me what you like,” he whispers, inching further forward. “I’ll do whatever you like.”  
  
“Start slow,” Sirius says, without missing a beat. “No teeth.”  
  
Remus uses just his tongue and hand at first, lapping gently and swirling around the sensitive head of Sirius’s cock. He thinks it isn’t so bad; Sirius seems to enjoy it, anyway. His breathing is even and deep, but he looks entirely too peaceful, and Remus wants to make him melt. He takes him into his mouth and the heavy weight is foreign and strange. He has no idea what he’s doing, but maybe if he puts his hand right here and sucks him like this—  
  
“Fuuuuck,” Sirius groans, sounding a little bit strangled. “Just like that, babe. For the love of Merlin, keep going.”  
  
Sirius reaches a hand down, brushes the curls out of Remus’s eyes, but doesn’t let go, seemingly holding his hair back for a better view. Remus looks up to meet his grey eyes, and is pleased to see Sirius watching him. Biting his bottom lip, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure, Sirius looks ridiculously sexy.  
  
Working his mouth and left hand in tandem, Remus slides his right hand into his own pyjamas and starts to bring himself off while sucking Sirius intently. He’s probably never been so hard in his life. Remus is already dripping and knows this won’t take long. His hands are flying on both pricks, and he’s close, _so close_ .  
  
“Rem, I’m gonna—” Sirius breaks off, panting. Remus moans around Sirius’s dick as he comes in his pants. Sirius thrusts up into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Remus pulls off coughing, and Sirius comes— the first spurt splashes across Remus’s cheek and swollen lips, the final two thick, sticky stripes falling across Sirius’s abdomen.  
  
The two teenagers stare at each other in shock for a moment, then they both burst out laughing.

 

**III. Autumn**

  
  
As the leaves on trees shift from vibrant greens to an array of muted, oxidized colours and fall swirling to the ground, Sirius and Remus enjoy walking together through Hogsmeade Village. They stop at Honeydukes for chocolate and at The Three Broomsticks for butterbeers with James, Lily, and Peter. Only under their favourite table can Sirius link their fingers together, though, grazing his thumb gently over Remus’s bony knuckles.  
  
They still don’t have a name for this thing, but Sirius has been completely devoted to Remus. He doesn’t want to hurt him, would never hurt him again. The incident with Snape in fifth year had certainly taught him a lesson. Now, watching Remus laugh with their friends, he’s completely enraptured. They’ve gotten so much closer these past few months, and Sirius feels the sudden urge to spill his heart to this sweet boy.  
  
“Let’s get out of here,” Sirius whispers, leaning in towards him when Lily heads to the loo and the other boys go for refills. Remus turns to Sirius with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his eye.  
  
“Got something on your mind?” he waggles his brown eyebrows suggestively, and Sirius boggles at how this brogues-and-cardigan-wearing prefect gets away with everyone thinking he’s so innocent. Sirius knows better though, and that’s one of the reasons why he’s wild about him.  
  
“I might.”  
  
“Then by all means, lead the way.”  
  
He dips his index finger into his butterbeer foam and looks Sirius in the eye, licking his finger clean with a dirty smirk that directs all of Sirius’s blood to his groin.  
  
“Merlin, Remus.”  
  
Remus just laughs and the two boys wave goodbye to their friends as they hurry outside. Sirius grabs the crook of his arm and pulls Remus around the corner of the brown-and-grey-bricked building. He looks both ways down the narrow cobblestone alley, then pushes Remus against the wall, their mouths and hips locking together like a powerful sticking charm. He’s wanted to do this for hours. Remus is a terrible cocktease, who tastes like butterbeer and reefer after their lovely afternoon. Sirius can’t get enough as he desperately licks into his mouth, chasing that flavour.  
  
“What, right here in the open?” Remus says, gasping as they pull apart. “That goes beyond Gryffindor bravery, I think.”  
  
“Mmm, yes. Wait, no. No. I just wanted to talk.”  
  
Remus runs his hands over the folds of Sirius’s leather jacket, smoothing it out. “Since when do you want to just talk?”  
  
Sirius shrugs. “Since we started this?” He gestures vaguely between the two of them. “This thing.”  
  
“Oh, I’m a _thing_ now?” Remus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.  
  
“You’re not _a thing_ . You’re…” He pauses, kicking the gravelly ground with the toe of his heavy black boot as his arms hang loosely around Remus’s waist.  
  
Remus huffs out a laugh then presses his face against Sirius’s neck. He needs to shave, but Remus seems to like touching the scruff, so Sirius leaves it alone in an attempt to get Remus’s fingers on him more often. “Are you embarrassed?”  
  
Sirius feels flushed. He’s never been self-conscious like this before. Of course only Remus can have this effect on him. It’s ridiculous.  
  
“You’re not _a thing_ ,” he repeats. “You’re _everything_ . I’m positively mad about you, you know.”  
  
Remus snickers, shaking quietly in his embrace. Sirius scoffs and pulls back, holding him away at arm’s length.  
  
“You’re laughing at me?”  
  
“Not _at_ you, just… well, it _is_ kind of funny. Sirius Black reduced to a quivering mess.”  
  
He scoffs again, affronted. “I am not _quivering_ !”  
  
“I’m sorry. Of course not. Please, do go on. You were saying something about how wonderful and fabulous and awe-inspiring I am?”  
  
“Git. I was asking if we— I mean. Are you seeing anyone else?” Sirius asks, hoping that wasn’t too blunt, but also hoping that Remus grasps his meaning of the question.  
  
Remus shakes his head. “No. Are you?”  
  
“There’s no one else but you, Rem. There hasn’t been anyone else for a long time.”  
  
“Well. I am glad to hear that.”  
  
“So, are we— are you my—”  
  
Remus cuts him off with a soft kiss, fingers threading through his hair. Each and every follicle on Sirius’s head is alive and tingling from his burning touch.  
  
“Yes, to whatever it is you were going to ask. You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”  
  
Sirius contemplates this for a moment, then shakes his head. “ _You_ say it.”  
  
“Alright then. You’re my friend. My best friend.” Remus grins sheepishly and pinches his arm. “My boyfriend.”  
  
Sirius sighs with relief, kissing him again, his hands coming up to cup Remus’s face. “That is just what I wanted to hear,” he mumbles, and Remus laughs for the millionth time that day.  
  
“Softy.”  
  
“I’m okay with that. I’m happy.”  
  
“Shall we head back to the castle and er— _celebrate_ this milestone?”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
They run all the way back to the castle, Sirius trailing Remus by mere inches the whole while, his long hair wild and whipping behind him. When they finally get up to their dorm, they’re both panting and tired, but that doesn’t stop either of them from undressing each other frantically.

They topple upon Sirius’s unmade bed, naked and hungry as they roll around, kissing amidst the crumpled sheets. Remus’s legs fall open and Sirius pins his thighs down, slotting their hips together into a delicious slide of skin on skin. He grinds down, rutting his cock against the other boy’s, and Remus moans freely, hooking one leg around his waist.  
  
“You look so fucking hot, babe,” Sirius says, repeating the movement. “Does that feel good?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s good. Fuck, Sirius, keep going.”  
  
“You want to go further, or—”  
  
“Merlin. I do, but—” he cuts himself short with another whimpering moan when Sirius shifts a bit. “But— not right now. This is— God. This is perfect.”  
  
“ _You’re_ perfect,” Sirius says, panting against his lips. He wraps a firm hand around both of their dicks and the boys moan together, arching and bucking like wild animals in the woods.  
  
“Don’t you fucking stop,” Remus begs, so Sirius doesn’t stop. They touch and they kiss and Sirius grinds down against him, thinking Remus has never looked sexier or more feral— and when Remus yanks on his hair and screams his name, Sirius comes with the force of a fucking supernova, blinded and nearly thrown back by the blast. It’s never been this good with anyone else, and in this moment he can’t even recall any of their names. There is only _RemusRemusRemusRemus_ ; the chant in his head beating in time with his heart. Remus is his best friend, his boyfriend, his lover, and Sirius is happier now than he’s probably ever been.  
  
Afterward, they lay with their spent and supple limbs entwined, caressing damp skin and whispering promises of so much more to come.

 

**IV. Winter**

**  
**  
Remus sits on the bench of the bay window in his bedroom, pillows and blankets nestled all around him and the lovely gilded-edged journal Sirius gave him for Christmas clutched against his chest. He watches the snowflakes spin and flutter and fall. Suddenly, Remus is struck with the realisation that, with the impending war he will inevitably be fighting in, this will probably be the last happy holiday for quite a while.  
  
He thinks about Sirius and how much he’s changed for the better this year, about how much the two of them have grown up and how close they’ve gotten, both as friends and between the sheets. Sometimes he still can’t believe the things Sirius says to him— that he’s beautiful or special in any kind of way— but Remus hears the honesty in his voice and sees the truthfulness in his eyes. Surely the way Sirius holds him and the heat between their bodies when they’re wrapped around one another are all genuine; some things can’t be faked.  
  
Sirius has been so patient with Remus, so tender and careful, and has completely acquiesced to Remus setting their pace. Remus still feels like he can’t compare to the girls Sirius has dated in the past— they’ve all been so beautiful and Remus has always been ridiculously jealous— but then Sirius reminds him that they’re together, that he chose Remus. No one is making him do this. He wants this. Wants _him_ .  
  
“Approximately forty-five minutes until 1978 begins,” Sirius says, pushing the bedroom door open with his foot and kicking it shut behind him. He crosses the room and places two mismatched mugs down on the table beside the bottle of champagne he brought with him. He waves his wand and transfigures them into crystal flutes, then makes himself comfortable on Remus’s tiny twin bed, stretching lazily.  
  
He’s wearing one of Remus’s t-shirts for some reason, and it’s nearly two sizes too small. It’s almost obscene. Remus thanks whichever deity was in charge of his parents deciding to break their normal mold and attend a party tonight, so that he could sneak Sirius in. Of course, he’s not sure if it counts as ‘sneaking’ when the other boy rolls through the Floo in a flurry of bright green flames in the middle of the night and leaves ashy boot prints all over the hearth. Remus closes his journal and sets it on his desk as he shimmies out of his cocoon of blankets. He makes his way over to Sirius and lies down beside him, snuggling close to his boyfriend.  
  
_Boyfriend_ . He still can’t get over that. He’s so blessedly happy.  
  
“Any resolutions?” he asks, slipping his hands underneath the tiny shirt and scratching over Sirius’s ribs.  
  
“Mmm, yes. I resolve to kiss you more,” Sirius replies, planting one on his cheek and pulling Remus on top of him.  
  
“Idiot,” Remus says with a snort of a laugh, straddling Sirius’s waist. “That’s not a valid resolution. It’s supposed to be something that helps you be a better person.”  
  
“ _You_ help me be a better person,” Sirius says, and Remus can only smile down at him fondly because he feels Sirius does the same for him. “Besides, kissing is always valid.”  
  
“Right. That’s why you’re immediately supposed to kiss the person you want to spend the rest of the year with.”  
  
“Exactly. Which is why I’m going to snog you and snog you and snog you and—”  
  
“Careful what you wish. That’s quite a lot of years, you know.”  
  
“Well yes, that’s the idea, isn’t it? I want to spend every year with you, for the rest of my life.”  
  
He can’t mean that. Surely, he’s taking the piss.  
  
“Sirius—”  
  
“You must know how madly in love with you I am.” Sirius says this with an air of nonchalance, but Remus can see the apprehension written on his face. Remus’s heart flips, his stomach clenches.  
  
“I— no. You’ve never said…”  
  
“I’m a stupid, stupid man. Anyway, I’m saying it now. _I love you_ , Remus Lupin. And I think you love me, too.”  
  
He’s not wrong. Remus has been in love with Sirius since fifth year, since the first time Sirius morphed into Padfoot before his very eyes and gave him the best gift he could ever have asked for. Remus has been smitten with him for even longer than that. Now, his pulse is racing.  
  
“Of course I do. How could I not?”  
  
“Say it, then?” Sirius asks him, running a gentle finger over the angle of Remus’s jaw.  
  
“I love you, Sirius Black,” Remus says, and he can feel himself redden, ready to burst.  
  
“Fuck, that sounds bloody brilliant coming from your lips. Say it again, babe.”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“Again. Louder!”  
  
“I love you, you complete wanker!” he shouts with his head thrown back.  
  
Sirius laughs and pulls Remus down into a deep kiss, his long fingers caught in the other boy’s curls, thumbs caressing his cheekbones. Remus is boneless against him and dizzy from this revelation.  
  
_He loves me, he loves me, he loves me_ , Remus thinks, licking into his mouth, and it’s such a sweet truth that he can taste it in their kiss. For all of his ridiculous, brash, impulsive recklessness, Sirius deserves the world. He stumbled into Remus’s arms because of it anyway, and now he’s stumbled into his bed, in his actual home, in his favourite place. Of all the different beds they’ve explored one another’s bodies on so far, it hasn’t yet been this one. His parents are gone and it’s the start of a new year. It’s as if the planets have aligned to bring him this quiet little miracle. Remus reluctantly breaks the kiss and gazes lovingly at Sirius for a beat. His pale cheeks are as flushed as Remus feels his own are, Sirius’ silver eyes half-closed with either sleepiness or lust, and he’s so impeccably lovely that Remus makes a bold leap.  
  
“I want you to make love to me,” he whispers, diving headfirst into it without reservations, taking a page from Sirius Black’s own playbook.  
  
Sirius raises his eyebrows and blinks, eyes wider now, completely thrown off guard by this declaration. Remus almost thinks he’s overstepped, maybe what they’ve been doing is the furthest Sirius is willing to go, but his qualms leave him when Sirius rolls him over, presses him into the mattress and plants a sloppy kiss on his lips. Sirius pulls back suddenly, though, leaping off the bed and onto his feet, looking around bewilderedly.  
  
“What?” Remus asks, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I brought you a Christmas gift, and I need to give it to you right now.” Sirius scrambles toward his jacket that’s hanging on the back of Remus’s desk chair and reaches inside for the inner pocket.  
  
“But you already gave me my gift.”  
  
“No, this one is— hah— well, I didn’t want to push the subject. I’ve been going back and forth about giving it to you already, but—” He holds it up.  
  
“It’s a book,” Remus says blithely. Normally he’d be excited to crack any book open, but he wonders if now is really the time for this.  
  
“Not just any book. You know, my uncle Alphard was extricated from the family because he was gay,” Sirius says, kneeling on the bed and passing the book to Remus.  
  
“You’re telling me about your uncle right now?” Remus whines, snatching the book. It’s an old, dusty, dark blue thing, and the title has long faded away. “Can this little anecdote wait until after we get off?”  
  
“No!” Sirius presses his lips together, shoulders shaking with restrained laughter when Remus groans frustratedly. “I found this in his house when I was sorting out his things. It was separate from the other books so I opened it. Look—”  
  
Sirius opens the book, flipping a few pages, and Remus’s eyes widen. It’s filled with dozens of moving illustrations of wizards in various states of undress participating in all manners of sexual intimacy with other men. Sirius has bookmarked and labelled each section with jaggedly torn strips of parchment.  
  
“There are spells,” Sirius says excitedly, pointing out different blocks of text, “and potions and anatomical drawings. I haven’t delved too deeply into it because I thought it’d be better to do it together.”  
  
“Oh, Sirius,” Remus breathes. He’s never seen anything like this before, never known anything like this even existed. His heart is thumping wildly inside his chest. “Yes. This is… this is amazing.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah. Merlin. Come here, you marvelous genius.”  
  
Remus sets the book down and wraps an arm around Sirius’s neck, pulling him close for another breathless kiss. They undress one another slowly, nimble fingers taking their time with buttons and zips; cotton and denim falling into a haphazard pile on the faded floral rug. Sirius lays Remus down gently, moves his warm hands down Remus’s naked torso and eyes him hungrily, like it’s the first time he’s ever seen him nude. He kisses Remus again, urgent and ravenous this time, and Remus trembles under his touch, more out of adrenaline than anxiety— but a shaking leaf all the same.  
  
Sirius moves lower, hooking his arms under Remus’s thighs and when he takes his cock into his mouth, Remus gasps. They’ve done this enough times by now that they don’t need an instruction manual— Sirius knows exactly what Remus likes, knows how to make him sigh or bite his lip or moan (or come), and he plays Remus’s body like a finely tuned instrument. Sirius’s tongue is as fiery as his temper, his hands as deft as his magic, and yet this is much softer, much slower than their usual bouts. Sirius moves his hand behind Remus’s bollocks, one finger tracing the cleft of his arse. It’s new, and Remus’s face twists into an uncomfortable grimace. Sirius pulls his mouth off of him and chuckles into the crook of his hip.  
  
“Do you want me to stop?”  
  
“I’m just realising— this might be… dirty.”  
  
“Everything’s dirty with you, babe,” Sirius jokes, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“There’s a cleansing charm in there. What is it?” He leans over toward the pile of discarded clothing, snatching up his wand.  
  
Remus picks the book up, flipping to a marked page and scanning the list of spells. It’s not one he’s ever seen before.  
  
“ _Leniter extergimus_ ,” he says, enunciating each syllable very carefully. “Len-i-ter ex-ter-gi-mus.”  
  
Sirius whispers the spell to himself a few times, then points his wand toward Remus’s nethers.  
  
“Huh,” Remus says, surprised. It’s not so bad, he thinks. He definitely felt… something… but it was just a light touch. Not invasive at all like a ‘scourgify’ would’ve been. “I think that worked.”  
  
“Yeah? What next?”  
  
Remus’s eyes scan the pages. “Evidently I need to be stretched out. I suppose that makes sense. Unfortunately, there’s no spell for that, so you will have to use your fingers. There is, however, a lubrication charm that is supposed to be helpful.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“ _Tepidum et lubricum_ ,” Remus laughs. “Literally means ‘warm and slippery’. How do wizards ever come up with this shite, I wonder?”  
  
“ _Tepidum et lubricum_ ,” Sirius repeats, pointing his wand at his left hand. He makes a face when his fingers are suddenly coated in a thick, clear substance. “Well, that’s weird. What do you think this stuff is?”  
  
Remus shrugs. “The book doesn’t specify, but it’s apparently safe, so…”  
  
“Should I, ah…”  
  
“Okay.” Remus lowers the book onto his chest, glancing between his legs at Sirius. He almost wants to cry, he’s so overwhelmed with emotion. “One at a time though, yeah?”  
  
“Hey… relax, babe,” Sirius says with a crooked smile, rubbing Remus’s thigh with his clean hand. “Just tell me if you wanna stop.”  
  
“Okay,” he repeats. He inhales and closes his eyes. A moment passes, Sirius shifts on the bed, then he feels it— the wet, warm finger on him, rubbing gingerly. It breeches him slowly, and it’s not painful but it is strange. He releases the breath he’s been holding and screws his face up, eyebrows furrowing.  
  
“Relax,” Sirius says again. His gravelly voice is low and soothing. “You’re doing great. I’m gonna do another.”  
  
Remus nods as another finger slips inside, pushing in deeper. He doesn’t know when he’s gone limp, but Sirius wraps his free hand around his cock and begins to stroke him back to life.  
  
“So good, baby,” Sirius whispers. “Look at you.”  
  
Remus starts to respond, but Sirius’s fingers are all the way inside and they brush against something that pulls an undignified, high pitched moan out of his mouth. His eyes fly open, skinny thighs pressing against either side of Sirius’s head, locking him in place. He looks down at Sirius who is staring back at him, equally as shocked.  
  
“What the fuck was that?” Remus asks, relaxing his legs and scrambling for the book. He turns a few pages, but his vision is blurring. He’s fucking crying. Remus tosses the book away and wipes his eyes.  
  
“Are you okay?” Sirius asks. He’s still knuckle-deep in Remus’s arse. “Rem? Should I stop?”  
  
“No! No. Whatever you did felt good, really good. I— I wasn’t expecting it. Fuck, I’m being ridiculous.”  
  
“Hey, hey. It’s all right, just calm down. Breathe. Was it… this?” He twists his wrist and brushes against that same sweet spot. Remus yelps, his heels digging into the mattress as he pushes himself onto Sirius’s fingers, seeking that jolt of pleasure again and again. “Merlin, Moony!”  
  
“Do another,” Remus gasps, and Sirius pushes a third finger carefully past the rim. This one Remus really feels. He bites his lip. The stretch burns like hellfire and he feels absolutely splayed open. Sirius’s hands are huge, his fingers are thin but long and it feels as if his whole hand is inside him. Sirius’s fingers keep moving as he takes him into his mouth once more, sucking him in time with his tortuously slow fingering. Eventually, he asks Sirius to stop.  
  
“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”  
  
“No. I mean yes, but it’s not awful.” Sirius snorts, rolling his eyes. “I mean… I just want you now. Can we try?”  
  
Sirius pulls his fingers out and crawls over his body, kissing his shoulder up to his neck, making Remus squirm delightedly. Sirius drops a quick kiss to his lips, then positions himself between Remus’s legs. He coats his fingers with another bit of lubricant, slicking himself up.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The blunt tip of Sirius’s cock pushes inside and Remus winces. Sirius is thicker than his three fingers and this angle doesn’t feel ideal. He’s only halfway in when Remus has him stop once more. Remus flips over onto his stomach, one leg hitched up, and Sirius tries again. He’s got one hand on Remus’s hip, inching forward as Remus breathes in deeply through his nose and exhales out of his mouth, over and over, until Sirius is fully seated inside him. Remus has gone soft again, so he wedges a hand between himself and the bed and gives his cock a few experimental strokes.  
  
“You feel amazing,” Sirius breathes, smoothing a hand up his spine to his shoulder and dropping a kiss onto the back of his neck. “Are you all right? I swear I won’t be angry if you want to stop.”  
  
“Yeah… yeah, I’m good. You can go on.”  
  
Sirius pulls back a little, then pushes back in. It’s uncomfortable as all hell, but the longer they carry on, the less it burns and after several minutes Remus begins to warm up to it, especially when Sirius’s cock delightfully nudges that particular spot again. He can’t help but let his mouth fall open around a wanton moan, gripping the sheets in a white-knuckled vise, with one side of his face smashed into the pillow as Sirius rocks into him over and over, hitting that same spot repeatedly.  
  
It’s over almost too soon, though. Sirius squeezes Remus’s hip in warning and with a shuddering grunt he finishes, draping his long, lean body over Remus. He pulls out carefully, rubbing gentle circles into the small of Remus’s back, and cleans the mess with the same murmured spell. Remus whimpers, rolling over again, arms and legs all spread out like a sweaty starfish. He hasn’t come yet, so Sirius quickly finishes him off with his mouth. He then kisses him sweetly, folding Remus up into his arms, like he’s made of porcelain.  
  
“I’m sorry if that was uncomfortable,” Sirius whispers into his hair.  
  
“It wasn’t so bad. You were very gentle. Thank you.”  
  
“We’ll get better at it. I love you so much.”  
  
“I love you, too.” Remus smiles to himself, thinking he could get quite used to hearing Sirius say that. He glances at the clock and can’t believe how much time has flown by. “It’s nearly midnight.”  
  
Sirius leans over and reaches for the flutes on the bedside table, then passes one to Remus and grabs the champagne. He pops the cork out with his wand then pours them both a generous helping. When the clock ticks over to twelve, they kiss once more, with fireworks crackling outside in the distance, and maybe this time the kiss means a little bit more.  
  
“Happy New Year,” Sirius says.  
  
“Happy New Year,” Remus says back.  
  
“So, I told you my resolution. What about _you_ ? Do you have one?”  
  
“I think,” Remus says, clinking their glasses together, “we should tell the others about us.”  
  
“I think you’re right,” Sirius agrees, and he leans in to kiss him again.  
  
Telling their friends seems like the right thing to do, since they know they’re both in this for the long haul now. Remus hopes it won’t cause too much of a scandal, but a part of him thinks their friends might already know more than they let on. He thinks they should tell his parents soon, and wonders what they will say. But, for now, it’s comfortable snuggling up against Sirius like this, naked and warm in his bedroom. The future may be uncertain, but Remus knows they’re in love. And for now, they are happy.


End file.
